Heat of the Moment

by Diana Duncan

  “He was still torqued at you and trying to get even.”

  “Oh, no, he couldn’t get rid of me fast enough. ‘Bye now, and have a nice life.’” She drew a quivering breath. “Remember when I said I’d also had that gut-deep ‘something’s very wrong’ feeling? That’s when it hit. Right before the woman in his bed came to the door. My sister.”

  His temper spiked hot and fast. As if she hadn’t suffered enough. “Cheating bastards!”

  “Sis treated men like Kleenex. Use and dispose.” She struggled for control. “After I’d gone home upset, she’d run right over to ‘console’ him. Maybe my actions pushed him into her arms. Or maybe he did want revenge. Or perhaps they simply got carried away like they claimed. But Janine got what she always wanted—whatever I had at the time.”

  “I’m sorry.” He pulled her into a hug. “You didn’t deserve that, Kate. Any of it.” He gritted his teeth. “Drawing and quartering is too good for them.”

  She gave a deliberate shrug, but her shoulders were stiff. “Back then, it ripped my heart out.” She took a trembling breath, and then determinedly jutted her chin. “But it’s water under the bridge. We’ve all moved on with our lives.”

  Maybe so, but she still suffered the consequences. Still lived with pain and doubt. “One incident doesn’t make you frigid, sweetheart.”

  “But the same thing happened with you. I…switched off without warning. I froze.”

  “Yeah, and we’d just met. It was your first time, and whether you’ll admit it or not, something else was going on with you that night. Give yourself a break. Even the major leaguers get three strikes.”

  “But I…” She flushed. “Look. I’ll be perfectly honest with you. Sex is like figure skating. There’s pairs and then there’s individual freestyle.”

  “Ah.” He nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe your triple lutz just needs work.”

  She averted her face. “I’m three for zero.”

  He scowled. She’d returned his kisses with inherent passion, had trembled with need beneath his touch. “Kate—”

  She jerked her head up. “Is it my imagination, or are we sinking? Fast.”

  He surveyed the landscape. Crap! He’d grown so absorbed in her, he’d forgotten to open the jets and heat the air. That wasn’t like him. He normally multitasked with ease.

  Kate’s confession burned in his thoughts as he pulled open the parachute valve at the top of the balloon to slow their decent. Her struggle with trust was now painfully clear. Could he help her overcome her past, so they could have a future?

  It was the most difficult, important challenge he’d faced.

  The basket bumped to earth, bounced and then settled. His shoulders squared in resolve. He’d always loved a challenge. He was the guy to blow her faulty theory right out of the water.

  As he helped Kate climb out, a chopper roared overhead. Grady, ever pushing the envelope. The chopper whirred down, kicking up a sandstorm. The aircraft’s lights illuminated the desert. The passenger door opened, and Murphy bounded out and raced toward him. Liam knelt, and Murphy jumped into his arms.

  Wriggling, the dog swiped his face with a wet tongue, and then sniffed him. You’ve been cozying up to that female again.

  Liam laughed and hugged his partner. “I missed you, too, Murph.” Kate made a small sound of distress, and he looked up in time to see her bite her lip and turn away. The day’s shattering events must have caught up with her. She’d held together remarkably well during hours of intense pressure.

  He rose, but before he could go to her, a woman hopped out of the pilot’s seat and strode up to them. A big, brawny woman. Sporting long brown pigtails. And wearing a blue gingham dress, white pinafore…and combat boots?

  “Yo, Dorothy.” Liam stared at his baby brother. “I don’t think you’re in Kansas anymore.”

  Grady’s gaze flicked to Kate and his dimples flashed. “It’s not a flying monkey, but it’ll get you where you need to go.”

  Kate collected herself, and her lovely mouth quirked in a half smile. The woman had grit. One of many admirable qualities. “Did you lose your ruby slippers and your munchkins?”

  “Damn hard to pilot a chopper in high heels.” Grady snickered. “But never fear, darlin’, all munchkins are present and accounted for.”

  Liam arched a brow. Some secret project Grady and Zoe had been co-conspirating. “What in hellfire are you up to now?”

  “Doing exactly what you ordered. Blending.”

  “With whom?”

  “The other ‘girls’ at La Cage. We’re doing lunch tomorrow.”

  “You were dancing onstage at La Cage? No wonder you couldn’t answer your phone.”

  Grady slid a manila envelope from beneath his arm. “Yeah, but I got your intel.” Baby bro’s eyes narrowed in an enigmatic look. “You’ll need my phone.” He handed it over, then turned and bestowed a disarming smile on Kate and offered his elbow. Liam’s instincts shot to red alert as Grady escorted her to the chopper. Grady had passed him information that would upset her.

  Liam tore open the envelope. Fear and fury whirled inside him as he examined the contents. Disheartened, he scrubbed a weary hand over his face. Why couldn’t Lady Luck cut him a break? After tonight, Kate might hate him forever. A heavy sigh escaped as he lifted the phone and dialed.

  Seated in the Mustang speeding through downtown Vegas, Kate glanced at Liam. “You’ve been uncharacteristically subdued since Grady picked us up. Is something wrong?”

  Let me count the ways. “I have to go to work. I’m putting you in a safe house with Alex.”

  “Why? What’s happened?”

  You don’t want to know. And I want to tell you even less. “Try to get some rest.”

  “Fine, keep me in the dark,” she huffed. “But drop me at the hospital, so I can check on Aubrey. I won’t be able to sleep, anyway.” When he hesitated, she frowned. “The FBI agents are there, and Daniel usually hangs around at night.”

  “All right.” He borrowed her phone once more to request that a Fed meet her at the door. When the Mustang pulled up at the hospital, the agent strode out and waited on the sidewalk.

  Liam turned to her, harsh lines of stress carved in his handsome face. “When I’m done, we have to talk.”

  Resignation coiled around her heart. They’d disarmed the bombs, and ended the stalker’s game. An arrest must be imminent. Liam had done his duty. Was it time for the big brush-off? She firmed her chin. Not like she hadn’t foreseen it. Or expected anything else. But she couldn’t stop the tears that blurred her last view of him as he drove away.

  Upstairs, Aubrey cried and fretted. A frazzled Daniel was pathetically glad to see her. They quieted the little girl, and then Daniel took his laptop to the lobby for an overseas teleconference. She felt sorry for him. Even exhausted, he still had to squeeze in work between a sick child and demanding wife.

  Kate trudged to the cafeteria for a badly needed mocha. She chose a table in the corner and gulped the hot, sweet brew. Still no word from Liam. It was gonna be a long night.

  Cell calls were allowed from the cafeteria, and she phoned Etienne. He was a night owl, and would be hitting his stride. “Bonne nuit, mon ami. How are the auction preparations going?”

  “Magnifique! The mess has been banished! That Bailey, she is a wonder woman. I am at home now, verifying the répondez s’il vous plaîts. We will be a huge success!”

  “Great! Thanks for effort above and beyond, Etienne.”

  “Mon plaisir, my lovely Katherine. When you are a rich and famous celebrity do not forget your lowly assistant’s devotion.”

  She laughed. “I’ll buy you that Jag you’ve been drooling over when you think nobody is looking.”

  “The scarlet one, mon coeur. Did you retrieve the photographs?”

  Her spirits rose. If nothing else, she had a faithful friend in Etienne. He cheered her when she was down, encouraged her when she was hesitant and shared her artistic vision. She wouldn’t have survived w
ithout him. Best of all, he was loyal to a fault. “Not yet, but I have a feeling Liam is hot on a lead.”

  “The, how you say, hunky Irishman, he is hot under any circumstances, non?” He chortled. “Ah, hold on, ma petite. Someone is at my door.”

  “At this hour?” She rolled her eyes. Probably a woman. Female admirers of all ages coveted the handsome young rascal like he was double chocolate fudge cake.

  He set the phone down, and his bootsteps tapped across the floor. She smiled. Her assistant loved those crazy, pointy-toed boots.

  A bang echoed, and she jumped. What was that? Amid shouts and thundering footsteps, Etienne screamed rapid-fire, unintelligible French. A sharp, short explosion rang out, and she gasped. A gunshot?

  Etienne’s screams abruptly cut off. Her heart stopped. “Etienne!” she shouted. “Are you all right?”

  A door slammed. Ominous silence hummed over the line. “Etienne!” she yelled. “Answer me!”

  Had the stalker gotten to him? Why had she tried to protect him by keeping it from him? Her heart galloped frantically as distant footsteps approached. A scraping noise sounded as someone picked up the phone. “Mr. Duplais can’t talk right now.”

  She knew that voice. “Liam?” Icy horror stole her breath. “What have you done to Etienne?”

  Chapter 14

  2:00 a.m.

  “Kate?” Liam’s throat tightened. Damn! Had his last chance for a future with her just imploded? “I’m sorry you had to find out like this. I’d planned to tell you in person. Afterward.”

  “What is going on?”

  “We…the SWAT team just arrested Etienne for stalking you.” He winced. “And international terrorism.”

  “What?” she gasped. “Is he okay? I thought I heard a shot.”

  “We tossed in a smoke bomb and a flash bang. He’s fine.”

  “Of course. It’s only a bunch of Kevlar-suited, machine gun–packing warriors against one twenty-two-year-old French artist.”

  “Standard procedure. We aren’t always sure what type of weapons or how many suspects are on the premises.”

  He heard her teeth grinding. “There is no way Etienne is a stalker or a terrorist. You’ve made a terrible mistake.”

  “You don’t know all the facts. We have evidence—”

  “I don’t care, you’re wrong! I’m coming down there!”

  “No. Stay put. You can’t see him. And until we find out if he has accomplices, you’re safer with the FBI agents.”

  “It’s not him. And he forgets English when he’s flustered.”

  Hellfire, he was in for it now. “Ah…je parle français.”

  A short, ominous silence ticked past. “You lied to me.”

  “I didn’t say I couldn’t speak French.” He looked up as a team of Feds began to bag evidence. “Etienne was on the short list as a suspect from the beginning. I’d hoped he might slip up and say something he thought I didn’t understand.”

  “What else have you been keeping from me?”

  “Parlo italiano.” He paused. “Y español.”

  “Very helpful, damn you!” Her fury vibrated over the line, scorched his ear. “Is Hanson involved?”

  He hesitated again. “Yeah. He has to be.”

  “I will not allow that storm trooper to railroad my friend into prison! I am coming to the police station!”

  “You can’t see Etienne until after the interrogation. I’ll make sure his rights are protected. You have to trust me, Kate.”

  “You didn’t tell me you were going to arrest my friend.” Hurt edged her rage. “You’ve been lying to me all along.”

  “I couldn’t divulge classified intel.” She was reasonable and intelligent. When she saw the evidence, she’d understand. He hoped. “And the language deal was actually a sin of omission.”

  “Don’t juggle semantics with me.” She inhaled unsteadily. “If you let them hurt Etienne, I will never forgive you.”

  He admired her loyalty, even when he was taking the fallout. “You know better. I’ll see that he gets a fair shake.”

  “I don’t know anything anymore.” Desperation painted her quiet reply. “I feel so helpless.”

  “I understand. I’ve been where you are.” Betrayal was always a cold shot to the heart. She thought he’d betrayed her. Later, she’d be forced to face the stinging truth about her friend. She’d experienced far too much treachery in her life.

  After Etienne’s final stab in the back, she might never be willing to trust anyone again.

  Sorrow rode heavily on his shoulders. “I’m sorry, Kate.” Damn, he wanted to be with her, needed to comfort her. But he had to do his job. “I have to be at the station when they bring him in. I’ll call you when I can.”

  Ninety minutes later, Liam paced in front of the desk where Etienne was seated. He’d figured the volatile kid would break in the first quarter hour. Etienne was shaken, but firmly engaged in denial mode. The interrogation had been conducted in French, with the Feds observing outside. When Liam was done, he’d have to translate for them. “It’ll go easier if you tell the truth.”

  Etienne groaned. “I have told you the truth.”

  Liam pinned him with his gaze. “‘Elvira’ told an undercover officer that a man with a French accent and long blond hair hired ‘her’ this afternoon to create a diversion at the hotel. The Frenchman met her in a dark hallway at the club and kept his face in the shadows. Nobody remembers seeing you at the hotel during that time period, and you have no alibi.”

  “I was in the storeroom unpacking the photographs.” He waved his wounded hand. “That is when I scraped the knuckles.”

  Liam fanned out the pictures Kate had taken from the car. The blurry close-ups showed long blond hair protruding beneath a black visored motorcycle helmet. “Are you sure it wasn’t when you wrecked your bike during this high-speed pursuit?”

  “That is my Triumph, but it is not me driving.”

  “You didn’t report it stolen. Yet investigators found the damaged bike under a tarp in your garage. Explain that.”

  Eitienne gave a very Gallic shrug. “It was not me.”

  “But you don’t refute that this…” Liam threw down more photos—wired by Interpol. “Is you, chatting with a leader of Les Hommes de la Mort, the European terrorist group.” Etienne appeared much younger in the photos and his crew cut hair was dark brown. “It is you stuffing a backpack into a locker at a subway terminal in London that was bombed an hour later. This is you snapping photos on a train platform in Barcelona the day before the commuter line was derailed and fourteen people died.”

  “Oui, many years ago. I was orphaned young and lived on the streets. I was starving and near to prostituting myself to survive. This man…” He tapped a photo. “Henri Rouchard. He took me in. Fed me. Educated me. I had no idea he was recruiter for a terrorist organization. I did not know he used me. When I discovered it, I ran. Changed my appearance, my name. Stayed far away, for good.”

  “Why didn’t you go to the police?”

  “Do you suppose I would have lived to testify, monsieur?”

  “So you worked under the radar, in construction. Specifically demolition. You’re familiar with explosives.” Etienne nodded, and Liam frowned and tried a new tack. “Quite a departure from your job for Katherine Chabeau. You just strolled in off the street and she hired you?”

  “I approached her with plans for optimizing her market. She recognized my talent and potential, as I recognized hers. She rescued me from a life of mediocrity. She is my angel.”

  Liam clenched his jaw. Kate might have hired her own personal psycho. He extracted more photos and slapped them in front of Etienne. “These are close-ups of Kate’s hands, along with a glowing accolade to her, written by you. Investigators found them in your bedroom.”

  “Je ne comprends pas.” Clearly bewildered, Etienne shook his head. “I have done nothing wrong in this.”

  “Why did you photograph her? Why did you write about her?”

>   “My Katherine, she uses a Leica. The company has a promotional campaign showing the hands of their photographers.” He sighed. “One sees advertisements using models with faces of unattainable beauty. But it is the hands that make everything happen, non? They are the tools of the spirit.” Tears glistened in Etienne’s eyes. “Who has a more beautiful spirit than Katherine? She thinks her injury makes her some sort of monster. I wished to convince her otherwise.”

  Liam studied the black and whites. The lighting was exquisite. Showcasing only Kate’s hands and the camera, Etienne had managed to capture her dedication and purpose, and the resourceful modifications that overcame her handicap. Her scars were visible, but the shot was angled so they weren’t emphasized. The kid was almost as good as Kate. With maturity, he’d be in high demand. The pictures and testimonial revealed something more. Liam held Etienne’s gaze. “You love her.”

  Unfazed, Etienne nodded. “Oui.”

  Liam’s jaw tightened. Objectivity, boyo, or you can kiss the interrogation goodbye. “How does she feel about you?”

  “She is my employer, my mentor, my friend. We are very much alike inside—misfits in this world. Though the bond between us runs deep, she does not wish to step across the line.”

  “Does that bother you? Does it make you angry?”

  “Me, I do not need to force myself on women.” What would have been obnoxious bragging from any other guy was blasé fact from Etienne. “There are plenty who are willing.”

  Liam studied Etienne’s golden mane, quicksilver eyes and fit bod. I’ll bet there are, junior. The kid had I-can-do-you-and-you’ll-love-it confidence that drew the opposite sex like a tractor beam. Etienne’s artistry with a camera wasn’t the only thing that would be in high demand when he matured. He was used to having women fawn over him. Expected it. Was he truly as unconcerned about Kate’s rejection as he appeared? “Have you sent her notes and flowers?”

  “Non.” He offered a roguish smile. “I gift her with Belgian chocolates upon occasion. She adores them.”